Force of Nature Part 3

Fear
Part 3 of "Force of Nature"
by H. A. Kirsch

Hawk continues to be abused, this time by a familiar cowboy wolf. If you read "Under the Devil's
Eye", you will recognize the cowboy. Maybe. Or not.

------

Hawk woke up with the horrible feeling someone was in the room with him. He bolted out of bed and
promptly flailed onto the floor with a thud. The room was completely dark. Not just dark, but the
complete absence of light. He sat up and  spun his head around, swimming with vertigo as nothing fed
back through his eyes. He felt around for the bed, reaching out to nothing. The wolf's arm moved
around in space, and after a few seconds, bumped into something. He recoiled. "Who's there?" he
barked.

Out of the black came the sound of a much-needed exhalation, like it had been a held breath, and a
snarl on the following inhale.

"This isn't funny. Who the hell's there?" Hawk snorted, and tried to jump up and back. He tripped on
the bed, fell onto it, and thumped shoulder and head into the wall with a grumbled curse.

There wasn't an answer, only the heavy creak of something.... rubber, leather, a metal jangle here
and there. Hawk's heart hammered, from the surge of waking and from the realization that someone was
very much in the room and moving.

Even as Hawk pulled his knees up, he wasn't fast enough. Hands grabbed vice-grip around his ankles,
and soon the wolf was yanked straight off the bed. He stiffened and howled as there was nothing to
support him, back arching so he didn't bash his head when he landed with a thump on the floor. "Let
me go! Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck comes into someone's bedroom and-"

There was another leather creak, and one ankle went free. Then, the sound of tape ripping, and
Hawk's muzzle was clamped shut with a wind of duct-tape. He snorted and thrashed around, trying to
kick the hand free from his leg. All he got in return was a stomp to the chest. Hawk wheezed and let
out a breath, and the full weight came down. He panicked, hands coming up to grab, finding only
leather. He tugged and yanked at the boot but its owner didn't flinch. Hawk tried to shift his
shoulders to get some air but didn't get quite enough, vision starting to go spotty. After a few
more seconds, he gave up.

Off came the boot, and on went those vice-grip hands, gloved as they creaked just a little. Hawk
found himself gasping hard, then trying to watch aroun the room as he was dragged out of it. The
assailant grabbed the door open, letting in just enough light to expose himself as a tall, dark
shadow in a cowboy hat.

Once outside the room, Hawk realized he was still in Carl's weird dungeon. The lights were off,
leaving only the emergency exit signs glowing. The guy dragging him quickly flipped Hawk over, so
the wolf could only stare at the ground as it went past. The wolf yelped and tried to keep his cock
from dragging.

The hallway became a dark room again, the wolf left lying on the floor. He quickly got up and was
almost full on his feet when the lights came on, blindingly bright. He winced and squinted, the
lights forcing his eyes shut. They turned down, turning to just a dull glow. When Hawk opened them
again, he saw something straight out of fiction. Karl Moul's unnamed Gunslinger, from the movie of
the same name. Black leather cowboy hat, long black duster, black leather chaps, knee-high stovepipe
boots with full spurs, full gun-belt, gauntlets over the arms of the coat. Not just the same outfit
- the same everything. Same face. Same size. Same slow strut.

Hawk bolted for the door, the other wolf rushing up to kick it shut with a boot. Hawk grabbed for
the inset handle and yanked, but nothing happened. There wasn't any other obvious way to get out. He
barked and snarld through his taped-shut muzzle.

"You shut up," the gunslinger snarled, and drew his gun. Hawk immediately shrank against the door.
Instead of firing, the other wolf beat Hawk in the snout with the barrel of a full-foot hunting
pistol. "You take that stuff off your face."

Hawk coughed and just stared, cowering against the locked door.

"I said up an' take it off!" The gunslinger reached over and his gloved fingers seized at the tape,
yanking the muzzle-cuff off without even unpeeling it. The wolf howled, jaw hanging open, drool
pouring out, tears streaming out of his eyes at the massive sting of pulled fur. "You gonna cry
already? You aren't gonna be in for a fun time if that's all you gotta cry about."

"Who the fuck are you?!" Hawk hissed through his teeth. He rubbed at his muzzle, fingers coming away
with a little loose fur.

"I think you can answer that question yourself. You ain't a dumb wolf."

Hawk looked around. The room they were in was as far from the dungeon of the previous day(?) as
possible. Instead of cold, hard black and metal, it was wood-floored and looked a whole lot like the
inside of a small wood cabin. A very run-down wood cabin, complete with the smell of mildew. There
was a very unpleasant-looking stain in the middle of the room, along with a chair and a big wardrobe
that looked like it was going to fall down any second.

The gunslinger pointed to the chair. "You get over there an' sit your ass down, wolf." He pointed.

Hawk's brain struggled to sort out what was going on. He came to the conclusion that it was some
kind of joke, and turned up a bit of a grin. There wasn't any way this could be anything other than
a prank. "I'm not gonna go sit over there. I bet that's not even a real gun."

Before Hawk had even finished a word, the wolf received another pistolwhip. This time it was hard
enough that he tasted copper and coughed. One of the flecks of spit on the wood floor was red. "What
the fuck?"

The gunslinger popped out the barrel of the pistol, looked inside - Hawk could plainly see six
bullets - and slapped it back in, then clicked the hammer back. Hawk quickly scurried over to the
chair and sat down. He suddenly had to pee very, very badly.

With a very blase look on his face, the leather-clad wolf stormed over to the chair. Up came a black
cowboy boot, down it went onto Hawk's crotch, dragging the wolf's ample black shaft and pinning it.
Hawk's muzzle fell open. "Now what's your name?"

"Hawk," came the feeble response.

"Hawk, huh?" The gunslinger leaned forward. "Isn't that a bird of prey? You look like you *are*
prey. You want to tell me why you have such an attitude? Been hearing all kinds of things about
you."

"What? I don't-" Whack. "Nrrgh, what the hell! What am I supposed to do? Whimper or something?"

"You ain't never had to respect anyone before. Well, you're gonna respect me. Open your fuckin'
mouth."

Hawk just stared. His mind kept telling him something was very fake, but it sure looked like Karl
Moul, and it sure looked like the same outfit from that movie, and the room looked damn familiar
too. His reverie ended when the other wolf hit him with the barrel again, and bore down on his cock
with the twist of a foot. Hawk winced and his jaw dropped right open. In went the gun barrel, Hawk's
back stiffening as he was pushed back into the wood chair, the cold metal jabbing painfully at his
throat.

"I'm not gonna move this gun until you throw up or I see some black tongue coming out along the
barrel. You get me?"

Sticking his tongue forward made Hawk gag, but he didn't want to find out what happened if he
didn't. His teeth chattered against the metal, tongue inching up until he had it stuck out all the
way, throat choking and smacking at the tip of the gun. The gunslinger pulled it out abruptly,
leaving Hawk to stand there with his mouth hanging open.

"Bet you thought you' be sittin' around, huh? Put your fuckin' tongue back in your mouth."

Hawk retracted his tongue. As soon as it was inside his teeth, the other wolf's boot swung up and
clacked the muzzle shut with the squared toe, then dropped and heeld Hawk in the sternum. The wolf
and chair went down backwards, hitting with a loud huff and thud. Hawk trembled, gasping  and
twitching as he was stunned out of breathing.

The gunslinger stomped over to the wardrobe and flung it open, then whipped his coat open and off,
tossing it up over the top. "Let's see what that big dog's got in here. Well look, this  makes a fun
toy." Under the coat, the gunslinger had on just a leather vest over his brawny chest. The other
wolf turned and held up a metal bear trap. He pried it open and dropped it on the floor. "This'd
keep you from being too much of a little prick. You'd do just whatever anyone wanted if you got
caught in here." The gunslinger rooted around in the wardrobe and plucked out what looked like a dog
bone, then flung it down at the trap's paddle. The metal jaws clanged together, Hawk's tail slapping
the floor and bristling.

"Jesus fucking christ! Stay away from me with that!" Hawk whined, and quickly got up.  In response,
the gunslinger poppd the barrel of his gun out and dumped the bullets into his hand, then stuck one
back in. He spun the barrel until it was five shots away, and pulled the trigger after sighting the
black wolf. There was a loud click and Hawk froze where he was standing.

"You get back down, get on your knees."

Hawk crouched down, banging his knee on the chair. The gunslinger fished out three things from the
wardrobe, brought them over to the wolf, then went back for his gloves. He tugged them on, snugging
the tight, black leather over his fingers, then picked up the first item. It was a fat, vaguely
cock-shaped buttplug. Fat enough that it was as wide as a dog's knot. The gunslinger tossed it over
in front of Hawk, the plug landing on the floor next to the chair. "Good wolf. Now spit."

The naked black wolf flatted his ears, cleared his throat with a snarl, and spit all over the head
of the plug. Before he could look up, he heard another *click*, the wolf's eyes snapping over to see
a gun pointed at him. "I said spit. I want to see drool drippin' down onto the floor from that
thing."

Hawk's ears went down again, quivering, and he worked his jaw, snorting and grunting. The next load
of spit was stickier and heavier, and drooled down the side of the plug until it left a splotch on
the floor.  "There. Is that better?"

The gunslinger came over and swiped up the plug, then grabbed the wolf's neck until Hawk choked.
"You tell me," the other wolf snorted, then slammed Hawk down against the legs of the chair. The
other wolf struggled and coughed, legs straightening, then buckling as the gunslinger shoved a knee
behind one of Hawk's. The leather-clad wolf prodded the plug against Hawk's pucker until the head
slid in, then lifted up a boot and stepped down until the base was flush inside. Hawk stiffened and
groaned, chest crushing down against the chair hard enough that he cracked one of the legs.

"Give me your god-damn hands, wolf," The gunslinger snarled, and when Hawk didn't oblige,
practically kicked the wolf down against the chair with a heel to the flared base of the buttplug.
Hawk yowled and spit on the floor, limply raising his hands behind his back.

The gunslinger went over to the wardrobe, and came back with a length of rope. He whipped Hawk's
wrists with it, then started lashing them together, doing a quick and dirty job of it. He then pried
the wolf's thumbs outward and lashed them together, tight enough that Hawk couldn't bend them back
further.

"Hey, oww! Oww! What the fuck!" Hawk snarled, and shifted his arms, trying to lessen the pressure.
The rope had his arms pulled back tight enough that he couldn't budget without hurting something.
The gunslinger then bent and lifted him up with one hand to the scruff.

"If I want you to fight, I'll tell you t'fight," the cowboy wolf snarled, and started winding some
of the rope around Hawk's arms. Then, up and around the wolf's neck, down to cross the chest, and
Hawk lost track. Whoever this other wolf was, he must have been a boy scout. Hawk looked down,
panicked to see the gunslinger winding around his chest, then tugging hard enough to make rope
creak.

"Not so tight! What the hell! You want me to stop moving? I'll stop breathing if you do that and you
can move me however you want, but I'll be dead!" Hawk barked, voice rising up. Up above Hawk's left
ear: click. The wolf grunted and tensed his ass up reflexively, vision streaking with spots, his
knees shaking. That was three. Two to go.

"You know what? I'm gonna shut this," The gunslinger snapped, and gave Hawk a hard slap to the
mouth. The cowboy wolf strutted over to the wardrobe and came back with an absurdly fat red ball-gag
attached to a head harness, complete with a long loop-leash on it. "Open wide," the cowboy sneered,
and grabbed Hawk by the muzzle. The wolf fought his head side to side, grimacing until the
gunslinger forced his teeth apart. The ball was the size of a big orange or a small grapefruit,
large enough that when the other wolf managed to strap it in, Hawk's muzzle was a millimeter from
being open too wide.

Hawk choked and growled, chewing at the ball. It gave enough that he could almost dig his teeth in,
but there was no way he could push it out, not after the gunslinger finished the rest of the harness
and went on with the rope. The gunslinger tied the rope from the wolf's biceps down to his hands,
pulling them up untl Hawk snarled and a stream of drool hung down off his fangs.

Next, more rope around the chest, leaving the wolf's pierced nipples dangerously exposed. The rope
went down between the wolf's thighs and around his upper leg in a sort of spiral before getting down
to the ankles. The gunslinger kicked Hawk with a boot to the side, knocking the black wolf down onto
the floor. The cowboy then crouched down and started lashing Hawk's ankles together, running rope up
to his wrists to start pulling him into a hogtie. The wolf screamed out into the gag as the
gunslinger pulled just too far, the pressure easing back and getting tied in place. The rope went
back down to the hogtie, then came under the wolf's legs in a loop that wound around his cock and
balls. If Hawk tried to push his hips forward, his parts would get yanked back hard.

"Now you just hold on. I gotta go get somethin'," The cowboy growled, and proceeded to stalk right
over to the door, somehow open it, and disappear out into the hall.

Hawk grunted and tried to stretch out, rewarded by a forceful tug to his balls. He tried to sit up,
but there was no way he could move enough, just creaking the ropes as he twisted around on the
floor. His tongue was trapped out underneath the ball gag, waggling over his teeth as he squirmed
around. He managed to kick the chair slightly, turn himself in a circle, and slap his tied cock
around.

't just sit there - he started squirming towards the door. Despite being tied up, despite being
yanked naked out of a strange bed , despite being abused by a wolf... that wolf bore an alarming
resemblance to someone Hawk had jacked off to countless times. Hawk couldn't be abused by a better
person.

He managed to roll onto his back, which did no good except pull his balls back painfully and shove
the plug deeper into his asshole, so he slumped over to the side just in time to see those tall,
spurred boots come back in. The wolf returned, still clad in the same vest, gloves, leather chaps,
but lacking pants. His cock was not the longest - Hawk beat him by a couple inches - but the shaft
was almost twice as thick as the black wolf's, and circumsized tight so the head was a huge, plump
mushroom. Jutting out the side of the gunslinger's muzzle was a fat, black cigar, lit and wafting a
little trail of smoke.

With a mad grin around that stogie, the cowboy strutted over and lifted Hawk up, rolling the wolf
onto his stomach. Hawk groaned, balls tugged hard, cock driving against the wood floor. Up went a
boot, then down went the same boot, heel digging into Hawk's lower back and making the wolf cough
spit onto the floor. "Now, you're gonna shit that butt-plug out of your ass, or I'm gonna do this
all afternoon." The gunslinger then tilted his boot toe up until the spurs prodding just above the
wolf's tailbase, and then started to ride up and down his spine.

Hawk shivered and struggled at the bonds, trying to grab the boot, or pull away, do anything but
take the spiked rowel at his spine.

"I said-"

Hawk yowled into the gag and started jerking his tailhole around, relaxing it with twitches of his
tail, eyes straining shut as he started pushing the fat knob of the plug out. After a good minute,
it popped free, the rest of the plug quickly following. Hawk sagged and grunted as it slid out and
thumped to the floor.

The gunslinger kicked Hawk to the side again, then crouched down and unwound the rope from the
wolf's balls, then undid the hogtie. The gunslinger manhandled Hawk until the wolf was on his knees,
bent forward hard. "You're gettin' fucked. I had some little shit grease up my cock real well while
I was lighting up out there." The cowboy was down on one knee, the other boot stomped down with a
jangle as he throttled his cock at the base and plugged the fat head straight through Hawk's
already-abused asshole.

Hawk screamed into the gag, eyes squeezed shut, tears and spit dreaming down his face as he was so
rudely violated. The gunslinger snapped and growled, a gloved hand whacking the wolf in the back of
the head. "Shut the hell up. Can't you take a dick up your ass? You reek of all kinds of jizz an'
piss but you whine when I fuck you?"

Hawk responded by lurching forward, eyes popping open as the cowboy wolf's glans popped out with an
audible sound. He thrashed and tried to punch the gunslinger, thumbs aching from the rope wound
around them.

"I'll give y'something to whine about!" the cowboy snorted, and got up to go over to the wardrobe,
returning with two industrial spring clips. They were sizable, possibly half a pound each,  the sort
of thing used to keep large equipment from moving around. He dropped down behind Hawk and grabbed
the wolf by the scruff, then snapped one of the clips onto the bound wolf's right nipple ring. The
second his gloved fingers let go, Hawk screamed into the gag again, cock twitching and pumping out a
big slug of pre onto the floor. "Like that, wolfy?" The cowboy repeated with the other clamp, Hawk's
legs trying to kick and force away. The gunslinger responded by forcing himself in again, starting
to jackhammer back and forth.

All Hawk could do was stare wide-eyed at the floor, eyes pinching shut with each heavy thrust, spit
helplessly hanging down from his chin as he chewed at and drooled around the obscenely fat ball
shoved in his mouth. When the gunslinger pushed in completely to the hilt, Hawk barked through the
fat gag and lurched forward again. His right ear was greeted to a metallic click of a pistol hammer
falling into an empty chamber, and the wolf instantly quieted down.

"No more mistakes, you little fuck-toy. I'm gonna come in you now," the cowboy growled, gloved
fingers digging into the ropes surrounding Hawk's chest, hooking under them at the back and making
the wolf wheeze and tighten up considerably.

The cowboy didn't last long. His leather-clad thighs slapped Hawk's rump and legs, balls smacking
back and forth until he let out a heavy grunt and pounded in straight to the hilt three or four
times, firing off deep into the bound wolf. Then he pulled out, growling around his fat cigar as he
milked the last of his seed out of his plump cockhead and onto the other wolf's tailhole.

"Mmm. See wolf? It doesn't last long if you stop fightin'," the gunslinger growled, puffing at the
cigar as he grabbed Hawk by the shoulder and pulled him back until the bound wolf's back was nearly
vertical. "Now I'm gonna be a nice guy an' get you off."

Hawk's head hung down, and he didn't bother looking back - he didn't see the gunslinger put the
buttplug in position, and let out a drool-laden, gagged bark when he was forced to sit down on it
again.

The gunslinger knelt behind him, reaching around to slap the wolf's cock a few times, the final
whack making Hawk whine around the ball, teeth digging down in only to spring his jaws back apart.
The slaps turned into a hard grabbing fist, the cowboy wolf jerking Hawk hard and fast, enough to
make his balls slap. "You like those things on your nips, wolf?" The cowboy came around front,
kneeling in front of the bound wolf as he fisted over the black cock, grabbing at the heavy clamps
and tugging on them. Hawk whined around the gag, eyes widening again, body pushing forward. "Feels
like you're gonna come already. These nice, big balls are all tuggin' up," the cowboy sneered around
his glowing stogie, tight-gloved fingers going for the wolf's balls and surrounding them, pulling
down hard.

Hawk immediately shot off, howling into the ballgag as his cock strained and pulsed, flingling long
ropes of seed forward and all over his own thighs and chest, not to mention a couple hitting the
cowboy square in the muzzle.

The gunslinger immediately grimaced, teeth chewing his cigar shut, and up came the gun again. "I
didn't tell you t'come on my face, you punk!" This time, there wasn't a click, but an ear-shattering
crack just an inch below Hawk's ear. The wolf's heart skipped a beat and he groaned, falling
backwards as spots crowded his eyes. His last thought was, oh fuck.

His next thought was, who the hell are all these people? The wolf looked up from where he was lying
and the room was instantly crowded. One of them was obviously Marcus, dressed as usual in his
SS-slash-cop outfit. Another was Airn, who looked quite average in a pair of boxer shorts and a
sleeveless teeshirt. The rest were unknowns - a fox, some sort of bovine, and a full-racked stag. If
this is hell, he thought, hell's going to fuck me.

"Did you fucking shoot him?" Marcus growled, and grabbed the gunslinger by the throat.

"With a blank, you idiot, now let me go!" The gunslinger was devoid of his previous drawl, instead
having a clipped German accent.

"Airn, get him un-gagged before he chokes!"

The fox quickly rushed over and undid the gag, unwound the ropes around the wolf's chest and arms,
then left Hawk. Everyone left the room and the door clicked shut.

After a few moments of feeling dizzy and nauseous, the black wolf undid his ankle ropes. Then he
scooted over to the wall and leaned on it, catching his breath. He wondered what day it was. He
wondered what time it was. He wondered if he was still in the dungeon or somewhere else. What had
seemed like innocent fun, character building, perhaps even penance, had turned into a nightmare.